


Day 6

by problematiquefave



Series: Kinktober 2018 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Barebacking, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Kinktober, M/M, Sex Pollen, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 01:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16209476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematiquefave/pseuds/problematiquefave
Summary: Nothing good comes from supernatural flowers even if feels great, a lesson Isaac, Derek, and Stiles learn.





	Day 6

There’s honestly no words to describe the current monster-of-the-week terrorizing Beacon Hills. It’s large and plant-like, with tendrils and vines that crawl and wrap around everything in sight and flowers the lure in innocents with their beautiful scent before devouring them whole. To destroy it, they need to find the roots, but that’s easier said than done.

They pack splits off into groups. Scott, Allison and Kira are one, Malia, Lydia, and Liam are another, and Isaac somehow ends up in the third one that features himself, Derek, and Stiles.

He has less of a problem with Derek. Though his feelings towards the former alpha have changed significantly since Boyd’s death – that last bit of loyalty snapping as the life drained from his friend’s eyes – he doesn’t hate him. Maybe he should but those are thoughts for another day. Stiles, on the other hand, is… Still Stiles. Loud, energetic, and annoying – full of stupid remarks and oblivion to the feelings of the people around him.

Isaac reminds himself that one night of having to put up with him – and Derek, and their whatever-the-fuck sort-of-kind-of-animosity isn’t going to kill him. He might roll his eyes right out of his head but this is for the greater good. Also, Scott gave him those puppy dog eyes that he can’t resist and well… Isaac’s not going to disappoint Scott, even if that means having to sit in the back of Stiles’ odd-smelling Jeep as they travel through the preserve on bumpy service roads while suffocating in the awkward silence.

It’s actually more boring than anything, almost sleep-inducing though Stiles’ pulls over before he can manage to drift off. They pile out of the vehicle and the sweet scent of the plant instantly fills the air. It’s different this time though, something in the undertones that’s musky. Isaac’s nose wrinkles but he follows Derek who takes the lead, the three of them traipsing towards the smell as Stiles’ manages to step on every breakable stick along their path. He holds in his sigh. It’s not worth it.

Especially when they reach the source – a cavern of vines and tangles, supported by trees that are starting to turn grey around their roots. These trees must but its’ first victims.

They’re hesitant to enter but they know it’s not the vines that are the problem, it’s the flowers. All they need to do is find the roots and avoid the flowers. Which is a nice thought but kind of useless when the roots are _covered_ flowers. Different flowers even that are red instead of blue, smaller and rounder. Some of them haven’t opened yet while others are in full bloom, letting off a pungent aroma that makes Isaac cover his nose with his scarf.

Stiles seems equally repulsed. He’s pull his shirt over his nose and is making a face as he grabs his phone. Derek is the only one unaffected – or if his, he doesn’t see the need to show it. He approaches the flowers, his claws out just in case. When he nears, one of the buds begins to tremble. Isaac’s eyes widen and his feet begin to move but, as if in slow motion, it opens before he can.

It doesn’t eat Derek. It _sprays_ him. The scent of it immediately fills the air, cloyingly sweet and overwhelmingly strong. The vines around them start to tremble and the earth shakes; Stiles loses his balancing, fall down, his phone hitting the ground with a crack. The vines snap and rustle, the light disappearing from behind them as it closes off. Panic rises in his chest but it doesn’t last long.

The scent coats him – his senses, his nose, his skin – and in its trail, it leaves a burning heat. He scratches at his skin but the heat burrows into him, nestling deep inside him. He can feel his face going flush, his thoughts disappearing one by one. He looks over at Stiles who’s panting on the ground, tugging at his clothes. Derek is worse off – already stripping, his eyes glowing bright blue.

Isaac sinks to his knees, throwing off his scarf into the dirt. His hands slip underneath his jacket but then Stiles is _there_ beside him and he’s leaning down and he can feel Stiles’ breath on his skin and _God_. They kiss and everything feels right.

Stiles is sloppy and slobbery when he kisses, forceful too – plants his hands on Isaac’s cheeks and drags himself up to, leaning against Isaac until the younger werewolf is bending beneath his weight. He startles when he feels hands on his shoulders. _Derek_. He tries to break away but his head’s too _fuzzy_ and Stiles is too _there_ and all he knows is to let his limbs be malleable as Derek pulls his clothes off of him, ripping the things he can’t get off easily. Isaac doesn’t complain.

When’s he completely naked – exposed to the night air but still burning hot – Derek’s fingers grab his chin and drag his face away from Stiles’. He isn’t as messy a kisser but he’s rough, teeth and dominance and Isaac shrinks beneath him, pliant and wanting. Stiles’ disappears for a moment but when he comes back, he’s _there_. Warm and touchy, his hands roaming over Isaac’s body. He tweaks his nipples and the younger werewolf keens into Derek’s kiss which is all the human needs to lavish attention on them.

He twists and pulls, laving his tongue over the sensitive buds. Isaac squirms and twists but Derek holds him still, moving away from his mouth and kissing a trail down his jaw and neck that tickles with his beard. It’s not enough though, not enough as Derek sucks bruises into neck that won’t last and Stiles makes oddly attractive slurping sounds around one of his nipples.

Derek is the one to realize this – or maybe he just gets impatient on his own because he shoves Isaac forward, causing him to land on Stiles who falls to his back. There’s no time to reorient himself (not that he could, so dazed and confused) before Derek’s claws are digging into his hips and dragging them into the air. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he feels the older werewolf’s tongue on his ass, licking a trail down his cleft to his hole and then pressing inside. He gasps and wriggles, causing Derek’s fingers to tighten as he doubles down on his ministrations.

Stiles isn’t one to be left out though. He turns Isaac’s head back to him and presses it into his lap. His cock is red and weeping and Isaac doesn’t need to be told or asked. He knows, and he doesn’t hesitate for a second – leaning in and wrapping his lips around the head, swallowing him down to the base in a single, fluid motion.

He closes his eyes and loses himself in it – in the weight of the cock on his tongue, heavy and warm, and Derek’s tongue in his hole, the scratch of his beard against his skin. It’s _great_ but it’s not everything; it doesn’t quite soothe the fire in his stomach and he knows it’s because he needs more. Lots more. _Both of them_.

It pains him to pull away from Stiles but he does, gasping for air. He leans back, feels the prick of Derek’s claws and a rumbling growl against his skin. He shakes his head though he’s tempted to just let himself be manipulated. “Need you,” he murmurs, forcing the words out. “Both of you, inside.”

Isaac doesn’t need to say another word – they understand. Derek surges up, pressing their backs together, planting his face in the crook of his neck as his finger slip under, pressing against his hole. He relaxes and allows himself to be opened on one finger, then two, then more.

Stiles sits up too. His hand starts on Isaac’s cock, fingers encircling the head before he drags his hand up and down. The pace is slow and clearly bored – like he’s got other thoughts in his mind and Isaac has a feeling that he knows what they are. Especially when his hand stills and the other one slides between his legs, brushing against his sack, and finding Derek’s fingers. He adds one of his own and there’s fingers in his ass, stretching him, hitting his sweet spot, and _holy god_.

But it’s not enough.

It just isn’t.

He whines, honest to god, and presses back on their fingers. The words to ask for what he wants fail him but the three of them are in-sync. They know. Derek’s hand retreats though Stiles’ stays. He hears the older werewolf spit into his hand and he knows logically, somewhere deep behind the fog, that that’s not enough, shouldn’t be good enough, but he doesn’t care. He wants Derek _now_.

He obliges. His blunt head presses against his hole, past the ring of muscle, and up inside him. Stiles’ finger is still there but it won’t be all. Derek is slow to start moving but, when he does, a second finger joins it. Stiles is stretching him, preparing him for another cock, and if that doesn’t make his muscles contract, well… Well he’s not sure what.

There’s a third and then they’re gone; Derek slides out until all that’s left in him is the tip. But then Stiles is there, and a second head is there, and then they’re _both_ pushing up and _fuck, fuck, fuck_. Isaac nearly comes then and there, off the feeling of being full and the burn of being stretched like this. But he manages to hold onto himself as they sheathe themselves to the hilt.

Derek is the one that sets the pace. He thrusts in and out, slow at first but steadily gaining speed; he rubs against Stiles, presses against Isaac’s prostate, and the younger werewolf dangles over the edge, just a hair away from orgasm at any second. He leans forward on Stiles and lets himself being used. Lets Derek fuck him, lets the human whisper dirty words in his ear and tug on his curls.

At one point, he tries to push back to meet Derek’s thrusts and that’s when it over. When he comes shooting across himself and Stiles, when his hole tightens around their cocks and they go off like rockets. Derek is first, followed by Stiles, and he can feel their come filling him.

The best thing is that it’s _enough_. Enough when he comes floating down from his high, when the slip out of him and they crash to the ground, when the come starts to leak out of his ass. It’s enough to satiate the fire, enough to chase away the haze, and enough to realize they’re still trapped in a prison made of vines.

“Fuck.”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth,” Stiles mutters, his arm over his face.

Isaac glares at him. “Fuck you.”

They’re all still naked but at least the status quo is back to normal. Hopefully.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated! You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://problematiquefics.tumblr.com/).


End file.
